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About Soroca

Once saw this chick, fishnets, smokin’ a cig. “Need a date, big boy?” she goes. Ruh-roh! Heart poundin’, I’m like, “Shaggy, save me!” Didn’t tho – too chicken, haha! Prostitutes got stories, ya dig? Some forced, some choosin’. Pisses me off – life’s unfair, grrr! Heard this tale, true stuff: lady named Candy, worked corners in Chicago. Cops knew her, left her be. Why? She snitched on bigger fish! “Kill one, scare a thousand,” movie says. That’s her style, survival, yo.

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I get to the office on Ember Street, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, phones ringing off the hook. My coworker, Sam, is frantically trying to fix a printer. “Why is it always the printer?” I mutter. It’s like a curse in Mindresti.

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